Dirty Little Secret
by ZWTFmate
Summary: He knew he'd seen her before, he just couldn't believe WHERE... Germany/Ukraine CRACK ON HAITUS... Sorry.
1. The discovery

**Hey guys! So this is an idea I had for my favorite crack pairing Germany/Ukraine. I know not many (in fact, maybe no one but me...) ships these two, but whatever. If you are reading this, please enjoy and don't flame me too hard!**

**Disclaimer: I own Poland. **

**Poland: Like, Eh?**

**Jk, I own nothing.**

It was that time again. The mandatory U.N. Meeting, this time held in the United States of- "FUCK YEAH!" - America. The day was sunny, the board room was stuffy, and Germany sat at the front of the table, as usual. What was unusual, however, was that he wasn't speaking. He was too distracted...

As he had stood at the beginning of the meeting, rambling as he always did at these things, he did a full sweep of the room. He had mentally checked everyone accounted for (except for Canada. He never seemed to be there...) when he saw her.

It wasn't as if he hadn't seen her before. She had always been there between her brother and sister, looking at her hands and rarely speaking unless spoken to. Because of this fact, she must have become little more than invisible, which he thought now as he looked at her seemed close to impossible. With a slight blush, he glanced down at her... rather large chest. He wondered how in the world she moved around...

He shook his head and looked back up at her face. Though her eyes were downcast, he could see they were blue, maybe a little darker than his own. Her mouth was set in a small smile and the yellow headband and berets didn't help her blond-almost-white bangs stay out of her face. He did his best to hide it, but he kept an intense gaze set on her. He swore on his life that he had seen her somewhere else before...

And so he sat through America's crazy new idea about nuclear penguin bombs ("Its brilliant! You just strap them on and let them FLY!"), England's complete rejection of it ("Penguins can't fly you fast-food eating moron."), and the great fist-fight that ensued over it trying to figure out where exactly he knew her from.

He was jolted from his musing suddenly by a small hand on his sleeve. He glanced over to see Italy looking at him with concern.

"The meeting's over, Doitsu. Are you okay?"

The blonde nation blinked a few times, then sighed as he stood and patted his little friend on the head. "I'm fine, Italy. I'm just going to... take a walk before going back to the hotel."

The Italian's face lit up instantly at hearing this. "OK! Take your time! See you back in the room!"

Germany nodded and watched as Italy skipped away, pausing only once to smile shyly at someone he couldn't see. He sighed again, gathered his things, and left.

Germany sat on a bench in the park near the U.N. Building, looking out onto the pond. He knew he shouldn't really care where he had seen before, but it was driving him completely mad.

His brow furrowed as he glared into the water. Was she an old girlfriend of Prussia's? No, he would've remembered being humiliated by his stupid older brother in front of her. An ally from a previous war? No, he would've definitely remembered that. He continued to wrack his brain furiously. Maybe he dated her?...

okay, that theory almost made him laugh. Of all the things Germany did do, dating was not one of them. It wasn't as that he wasn't attracted to anyone. There were a few possibilities, but it was just that he didn't really know how to... talk to girls.

He let out a frustrated breath and glanced at his watch. He had been there for hours. Rubbing his eyes, he stood and began walking in the direction of the hotel. Italy was probably wondering where he was about now...

He stood in front of the hotel room and pulled out the card-key. As he slid it through the lock, he thought he heard something like a feminine giggle from the other side of the door. He turned the knob and walked in-

"What in the- OHMYGOTT!"

"D-Doistu!" Italy cried, jumping up from the bed. He was bare-chested, his hair was messed up, and his face was bright red as he stared shocked at him. On the bed, a shapeless blonde girl squeaked and attempted to cover her underwear clad body. Germany blinked as he recognized her.

"S-Switzerland's sister?-"

"Doitsu, I can explain-" Italy said flailing his arms wildly around. In his flailing, he accidentally hit the bedside table, knocking over a stack of magazines to the floor.

Germany's eyes widened when he realized WHICH magazines they were. He hastily went over, shoved Italy out of the way and began to pick them up, hoping that the two younger nations didn't see what they were. Italy continued to ramble aimlessly, Liechtenstein continued to lie mortified on the bed, and Germany reached for the last magazine, which had fallen open.

Suddenly He froze when he looked at the page. On it was a young woman in a close-to-nothing milkmaid outfit that looked like it was on the verge of ripping off of her extremely busty body. Her hair was short and held in a yellow headband, the Blond-almost-white bangs falling over her just slightly darker than his blue eyes...

"Mein Gott..." he whispered, staring at the page with shock.

"-and then it spilled on her and we tried cleaning it off-"

Italy's oblivious ranting brought Germany back to the current situation. He stood up, magazines tucked safely under his arm, and gave Italy a look that shut him up quick.

"Take her home. NOW."

His command came out strong and threatening and the Italian didn't need to be told twice. In a second Italy helped Liechtenstein into her dress and led her out the door. When they had left, Germany sat on the edge of the bed and sighed, looking at the picture.

Well, now he knew where he knew her from. But now, he really wish he didn't...

**R&R please!**


	2. The Confrontion

** Hey all. Sorry about the lateness! I've just been so busy lately...**

** Poland: you, like, TOTAL liar!**

** STFU Poland! Anyway, here's the next chapter. I'm not too fond of it, but it'll have to do.**

** Disclaimer: I don't own diddly.**

If he was distracted yesterday, today was just ridiculous.

Germany was a complete wreck. His speech that started the meeting was short and meek, and as soon as he was finished, he sat down and didn't say anything else for the duration of the time. He fidgeted constantly, keeping his eyes on the table and responding only by tilts of the head. England and France glanced at each other and then at him curiously. Italy, who sat near him, watched him and worried. What was with him today?

At one point, in the middle of the meeting, he tried his luck and glanced up from the table, only to regret it immediately. Instantly his eyes went to her, and his breath caught in his throat. Sure, he thought she was pretty before, but NOW...

he looked back at his hands, blushing furiously. Now every time he saw her that magazine flashed through his mind. He mentally groaned and prayed to Gott that this stupid meeting would be over soon.

Eventually (though not quick enough), the meeting was call to an end. Sighing in relief, Germany stood and gathered his papers, mostly unwritten notes and blank documents he didn't really know anything about. He put it in his mind to ask Japan to copy down what he wrote later.

Italy made his way over and looked up at the German with concern like yesterday. "Are you okay, Doitsu? You don't look very good..."

Germany opened his mouth to respond, but snapped it shut when he looked over the little Italian's head. Near the door, She stood waiting for her siblings, manilla folder held close to her and a patient, almost motherly look on her face. In this perspective, you would have never thought a woman like that was ever in a distasteful magazine. She must have felt eyes on her, or perhaps it was a coincidence, but nevertheless she looked up and straight into his eyes. For a brief moment blue locked on blue and a strange unexplainable rush went through his body. But in a second she looked away, a slight blush across her face as she turned and walked out the door with her brother and sister.

His eyes followed her out and his hand absentmindedly pressed against his jacket pocket. In unsure contemplation, he had brought the page along with the possible idea of telling her about it. It would be horribly embarrassing and awkward, but he just didn't feel right knowing something about her without her being aware of it.

"...Doitsu?" Italy looked up at his distant eyes when he didn't answer. "L-look, if you're still upset about last night, I'm really really sorry..."

Germany forced his eyes back to the redhead in front of him. "hm? Oh, yeah, that sounds fine, Feliciano..." he patted Italy's head and passed by him, leaving the confused little nation in the conference room.

Out in the hall, he caught sight of her turning a corner and followed hastily. He honestly had no idea what he was doing, but his feet apparently did. When he got close enough, he heard his voice call out;

"Fräulein Ukraine!"

She stopped and looked back at him surprised, as did Russia and Belarus (though their looks had a hint of suspicion in them). "Y-yes?"

"May I have a word?" he glanced at the other two. "in private?"

"Um, s-sure.." she turned to the others and said something in Russian. They looked at Germany, back at Ukraine, then reluctantly turned and walked down the hall. When they were out of earshot, She turned back and smiled shyly up at him. "how can I help you, Mr. Germany?"

Well, this was it. He took a slow, steady breath and opened his mouth. He then realized that he didn't even know how to begin. He cleared his throat and tried again. Again, nothing came out. He sighed in frustration, rubbing his eyes and thinking the whole thing over. Gott, this was difficult...

Ukraine stood patiently, though a puzzled look made it's way to her face. "...Mr. Germany, are you alright?" she placed a hand on his arm.

He glanced at her hand and gulped. She had small, delicate-looking hands... he took another breath. "Um, Fräulein, I- Miss- I was- I found- isthisyou?" he pushed it out far too quick for her to understand and pulled out the page, holding it between them.

She blinked and looked at the paper questioningly. Slowly, she grabbed it and unfolded it, brow furrowing in confusion. She stayed like that for a moment (what felt like ages for the nervous German), But suddenly her face changed dramatically, eyes growing large with shock and a hand going over her mouth. She looked over the page with horror and then looked up at him with the same expression. "what-what is-"

Germany watched her in a slight panic, feeling like there was something he should say. But before he could say anything (or think of anything to say), a loud voice from down the halls reached them.

"OI! UKRAINE!"

Both nations looked to see an obnoxious blond wielding a hamburger vigorously coming towards them. Ukraine paled a few shades and Germany's heart jumped into his throat. _This CANNOT be good..._

America continued forward, oblivious to the predicament he was walking in on. "Hey I was wonderin' if you've seen Matty around he was gonna play catch with me and- Whatchya talkin' to Germany about?-"

The tall country was about to explain (aka make up an excuse) when he felt a hand slip into his and himself being pulled away from the perplexed American. He looked down to see Ukraine sprinting down the hall searching for something on the walls. His eyes trailed to their joined hands and felt his face grow just a little warmer. Those small hands were awfully strong...

She seemed to find what she was looking for, for she abruptly stopped and he had to jump back a bit to not crash into her. He then felt that strong little hand tug him into a small dark room, the door clicking shut behind him. Another click and the space was lit by a light-bulb on a string that dangled to and fro as he glanced around his surroundings. She had pulled him into what looked like a janitor's closet.

He fidgeted slightly. He found himself so close to her, almost touching, extremely unsettling. Plus, it was so dirty in here...

The proximity and lack of cleanliness in the vicinity didn't phase Ukraine at all, however, and she held up the page to the light. "Where did you get this?"

he stopped fussing and blinked at the photo. Where? He hadn't thought about that question. He couldn't very well tell her he found it in HIS stack of dirty magazines that almost no one knew he had. That would ruin his reputation... which reminded him that THIS could ruin HER reputation, but still. "Er, w-well..."

She had torn her eyes away from him and was now staring helplessly at the picture. "no one was supposed to know about this... my people were so poor... we needed the money..." She sounded to be talking to herself, and seemed to had forgotten her question, or even that Germany was there at all. Her hand returned to her mouth and tears started forming at the corner of her eyes.

Germany gulped. _Shit, she was crying..._ He was not comfortable with crying, especially Girls crying. He shifted from one foot to the other, chewing on his inner cheek and looking at anything but her. Put him in the middle of a battlefield he would know exactly what to do and how to do it, but in a situation like this he practically becomes a teenage boy at a school dance; Not a clue in the world. Blushing just a little more, he awkwardly put his hand on her shoulder. "...Please don't cry... I-it'll be all right..."

her eyes snapped up at his touch and she grabbed onto his shirt. "You cannot tell anyone. If my brother were to find out..." her hands shook and clutched tighter to the clean fabric. The tears that were teetering on falling pushed over the edge and streamed down her face. In the poor lighting, her eyes shined bright with desperate hope and her soft-looking lips quivered as she whispered almost inaudibly, "please...". Unbeknownst to her, her body had pressed up against him so their faces were inches away from each other.

He could feel her breath on his face and the blood began to rush to his face. "O-o-of course..." he stammered out, not even sounding like his voice. "I w-won't tell anyone..." He had no intention of telling anyone anyways, but seeing her in this state pretty much sealed his resolve.

The agricultural country looked into his eyes and gave him a watery smile. "thank you..." she whispered again. Her hands relaxed a little, but made no attempt to let go. He felt her body ease against him and then realized just _how _close they really were. His heart pounded so fast he was sure it was going to explode and his face grew warmer along with... other parts of him. Not being used to this sort of interaction, his body began to react to the unfamiliar contact. He prayed that she wouldn't notice.

She must have, though, for her smile faded slowly, leaving her face with an almost confused expression. His heart, if possible, beat even harder as his hand moved on it's own from her shoulder down her arm to-

Suddenly, a brighter light than the burning out bulb filled the closet and the click of the door opening this time brought both countries' heads snapping around. In the door way stood the outline of the blonde boy they had tried escaping from earlier. First his face had a look of bafflement, as if asking why the hell they were in a broom closet. Then came a childish grin that changed his entire face.

"Hey, whatchyou guys doin'?" He glanced at their hands on each other and grinned wider. "In a broom closet?"

They instantly straightened up, looking a lot more like a pair of teenagers than they should have. His hand dropped like lead away from her , face red enough to make Spain's tomatoes jealous. He glanced at Ukraine who had let go of his shirt and dried her eyes, looking just as embarrased. Behind her back he could see her crumpling the page and putting it in her pocket.

"W-we weren't doing anything..." His usually commanding voice cracked, making him sound totally unconvincing.

And America wasn't convinced. "yeah, okay." He continued grinning and winked. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Germany scowled, but knew he wasn't going to persuade the annoying nation otherwise, so he just followed Ukraine past America and into the hall. "What do you want?"

"Just need to steal Yekatrina away for a while." America looked between them and raised his eyebrow comically. "If you don't mind."

He continued to scowl though mentally keeping her human name in the back of his mind. "...do what you need to."

The American smiled and turned his back to Germany, tilting his head at Ukraine and walking away without seeing if she was following. She looked at his back sighing before glancing at Germany, or more like in his direction. Her eyes never made it to his.

"Well then, Mr. Germany." She broke the awkward silence with a professional, though quiet tone. He merely nodded at her, at a loss of what to say. She looked to the floor and hurried away, leaving him to watch her till she rounded a corner and disappeared. He stood a moment longer before going the opposite way to the exit, having a growing feeling that tomorrow was going to be a VERY long day.


	3. The Dinner Party

**Hey! Sorry about all the lateness. I've had Uber writer's block with this piece, but luckily I'm getting out of it! I'm actually almost done with the chapter after this one, so it should be up pretty soon.**

** Poland: Like, Don't listen to her. She's totally lying.**

** -SHANK-**

** Thank you So much all who reviewed! And extra thanks to Doitsu's Storyteller who has written a Germany/Ukraine and dedicated it to me. Thank you, I am not worthy. It's really awesome, go check it out!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia. It'd be scary if I did...**

~O~

"Just one more day." He told himself for the thousandth time that morning. "Then you can leave this stupid place and go home. Just one more day..." Every time he thought it, though, his need for it to be true grew just a little more.

He didn't sleep at all the night before. His nerves were all in bundles, causing him to toss and turn for hours in his bed. All he could think about was if it was the right thing to have told her, how he could have handled it differently, and why his mind kept wandering to that moment in the closet... Whatever he thought, he knew for certain that tomorrow was going to be extremely awkward.

Well, it was tomorrow, and awkward didn't even BEGIN to cover it.

Despite the lack of sleep, Germany still managed to almost be late to the conference, a feat unimaginable to him before. He rushed in at the last minute, causing all the other nations (who were already seated and ready to begin) to turn and stare at him. He turned bright red under all the attention, muttered an apology, and trudged to his seat, not even attempting a beginning word.

He placed his head in his hands making a point not to look at anyone or anything. He knew that someone would comment on the dark circles under his eyes or his disheveled hair, an absence of tidiness that any other day would horrify him. Also, he knew his eyes would eventually find their way around the room to...

It took all he had not to fall asleep during the meeting. He barely had enough energy to concentrate on what anyone was saying and took a moment to realize whenever he was being addressed. At one point he got so drowsy that when Japan patted his shoulder to get his attention, he jumped and cried out in surprise. Everyone, again, stared at him and, again, he apologized and sat down, completely humiliated.

At least he wasn't the only one completely off today.

At the other end of the table, Ukraine wasn't faring any better. She seemed to be in a perpetual state of blushing as her eyes fixed themselves on her lap. Her hands shook so much that she spilled the glass of water she had all over her, causing a few of the men to stare unconsciously at her chest (that is, until they saw the look on Russia's face). She was able to dry her shirt off, but it left her with an even redder face and eyes on the verge of tears.

Both nations, though in their own worlds, felt a connected cloud hanging over them. They were painfully aware of each others' presence, and that only made them wish and pray and hope that the meeting, or maybe just the world, would end very soon.

And eventually it (the meeting, that is) did end. As soon as it had, Germany stood, this time hellbent on getting out of there before anyone else. He stacked his papers neatly but quickly, stowing them away and turning. He finally let himself relax when he reached the door, knowing as soon as he walked out, he would be one step closer to going home. He turned the knob and-

-was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Sighing in frustration, he looked back at the person so obliviously keeping him from his escape.

"Hey Lud." America's smiling face looked into his tired one. Yes, oblivious was the perfect word. "You OK? Ya seem kinda off..."

"I'm... I'm fine, America." He thought of how many times he said that in the last three days. "What do you want?"

"I was jus' wondering if you were comin' tonight?" The American kept smiling as the German blinked.

"Tonight?"

"Ya know, the Dinner Party."

Germany mentally groaned. At the end of every U.N. Meeting, the hosting nation would treat the others to a large dinner at the best restaurant in the city. It was polite, if not considered mandatory to attend. Though knowing America, he'd probably take them all to some cheap hamburger stand, what with his economy in the state it was...

"Why would you think I wouldn't come?"

"Well, you didn't look too good, and if you aren't feeling well, then I would understand if you can't make it..."

A part of his dreary mind lit up. This could be his chance. If he declined, he could stay at the hotel and get some much-needed sleep, or even better, catch a flight home that night! All he had to do was say he wasn't going. Just say "no" and then he was free...

"O-of course I'm coming, America." The strict nation had the sudden urge to beat his head against the wall. Why, why, _WHY _had he said yes? He was so close to leaving and never looking back! Just because he was morally obligated didn't mean... Actually, that meant quite a lot...

"Great!" The younger man beamed up at him. "The person at the lobby of your hotel will give you the directions. Be there around 8:00 and" His smile turned slightly mischievous, "dress nice." He then left the European country to go harass someone else.

Germany sighed slightly. Great, just perfect for him. An overtired nation going to an inevitably loud and stuffy dinner party thrown by one of the most unpredictable countries he knows. His eyes roamed the room, wondering who else really, really, REALLY didn't want to go. Probably most of them...

His eyes fell on her and his stomach dropped. Would she be there? Of course she would be. Everyone was going.

There was that urge to beat his head against the wall again. Repeatedly. Instead, he opened the door and slipped out, heading to his hotel. Maybe he could try and get a nap in before the dinner...

~O~

Germany stifled a yawn as the waiter led him to the table in the restaurant. The nap-plan had failed miserably. His body refused to sleep during the day, even if it meant being fatigued until he actually went to bed. He wondered how Italy could have a siesta every day at the same time...

The restaurant America booked was, surprisingly, nice. Classy, but casual at the same time. The German hoped his simple dress shirt and pants worked well enough. The table was, of course, huge. With all the countries here, it was a wonder that anybody not with the party got served at all. Maybe America rented the whole place for this. Probably, knowing him...

Said American popped up as if from nowhere and wrapped an arm around the taller country's shoulders so he had to forcibly stoop down.

"HEEEY! Glad you could make it. And on time too." The self-proclaimed hero gave a smirk, joking on Germany's tardiness earlier.

Germany, however, was not in a joking mood. "Of course..." He stiffened slightly under the hold, back already hurting from the bent position. Gott, he was getting old...

"uh-huh... Y'know, I was thinkin' earlier, about yesterday..." He give the German a wink to clarify what he meant, making the poor man blush slightly. "Oh, don't worry, like I said, I won't tell anyone. And a Hero always keeps his word!"

Germany gave him a cold look, not wanting to re-flesh those thoughts. "And?..."

"Well, I just want you to know I totally get where you're coming from. I mean, it's just something about Russia's sisters... They are untouchable 'cause, well, they're RUSSIA'S sisters, but still..." His eyes wandered to a long-haired, woman with cold eyes sitting next to the Russian. "There's something...The way they walk... or how their mouths move... or the murderous gleam in their eyes when they brandish a knife at you..."

"...What are you talking about?"

"I dunno- HEY!" America turned to him and squeezed his shoulders. "Wanna go to your seat?"

"That would be very helpful..." Honestly, Germany had enough of the obnoxious nation for a very long time...

He grinned in that mischievous way like earlier. "Five chairs down. Second to last seat." He patted the taller man's shoulder and gently pushed him in that direction. "Go get 'em, Tiger."

As he made his way down, he glanced back at the sunshiny nation, who was looking at Russia's younger sister again with a silly smile on his face. He blinked in confusion. What was with that suspicious grin before? And what did he mean by that last statement? What was that boy planning?

All those questions were answered simultaneously as he turned to where he was supposed to be sitting. He froze mid-step, a cold sweat coming over him. Just to the right of his seat, literally _RIGHT _next to him was the one person he wanted to avoid at all costs. As if on cue, those soft blue eyes looked up and gave him the same expression he was sure he had.

Oh, he was going to KILL America.

~O~

**You know the drill. R&R please! Oh and if you have any ideas or tips for the next few chapters, it would mean sooooo much if you tell me! Anything helps!**


	4. The Other Secret

**Hey! Wow, less than a week. Fastest update yet. **

**Poland: Don't expect this often.**

…**Why must you say such hurtful things, Feliks?**

**Thank you all for your reviews and ideas, though even if you didn't have an idea, I still appreciate whatever you said! **

~O~

Germany swore he was going to die. Any minute now, a lighting bolt or a comet or maybe, if God was feeling ironic today, an avalanche of porno was going to come through the the ceiling and kill him. Any second now. Something. Anything. Anything to get him some relief from what was happening right now...

For the what felt like hours (though it was only five minutes) that they had been sitting there, Germany and Ukraine hadn't said a word. Hell, they couldn't even look at each other, so what made them think they could _talk _to each other? The cloud they felt in the board room was back and was now raining down on their poor little uncomfortable heads. She kept her eyes averted, wringing her hands out nervously and blushing quite intensely. He looked around for the waiter, desperately needing a beer right now. In his searching he accidentally looked at her and blushed lightly. He was embarrassed to admit it, even in his head, but she looked really good in that bright yellow dress.

He also noticed in his searching for that damned waiter that the other dinner guests had noticed the way they were acting. He saw Poland point at him and whisper to Hungary, who giggled like a little school-girl. He caught France's eye for a moment who smiled and gave him a thumbs up. And the look he was sure to be getting from Russia... He shivered at just the thought.

He scowled slightly at them all. They probably had the wrong idea like America did. None of them understood the situation at all. Though he couldn't very well TELL them...

_"Alright, calm down." _he thought to himself and took a breath. It didn't matter what they thought. All this would be over after tonight, anyways. He closed his eyes to concentrate. All he had to do was wade his way through dinner, skip dessert and get the first plane out of this place and back to the Fatherland where he belonged. "_You can do this. It's just a few hours. It can't get any worse..."_

"HEY WEST!"

His eyes snapped open. Oh Gott. It just got worse.

Plopping into the chair next to him, a loud, annoying walking-excuse-to-kill-self-with-a-bird-on-it's-head slung it's arm around his shoulders. "Aw, what, no hello for your AWESOME older Bruder?"

Germany sighed, feeling a headache coming on. "Hello, Gilbert..."

"Hell yeah, 'Hello Gilbert'! You should be embracing me in a loving all-adoring hug!" The former-nation glanced past his brother. "Oh, I get'cha. I bet you want to _embrace _something else." He grinned and nodded his head. "Hey, Yekatrina."

Ukraine jumped slightly at being recognized and attempted a small smile. "H-hello, Prussia."

"Aw, c'mon Yekatrina, I thought by now we'd be past Country names." he smirked and winked at her. "Or we could be after dinner..."

Germany bit his lip, the need for that beer increasing with each second. He could see Ukraine blush from embarrassment out of the corner of his eye and felt sorry for her. No girl should have to be subject to his idiot brother...

"Hey West." Prussia whispered, poking him in the ribs. "Trade seats with me."

"What? No!"

"C'mon! How am I supposed to make an awesome move if I have to do it around you?"

"You don't. This is a nice Dinner, East. That kind of behavior is completely inappropriate." He knew it was weak reasoning, and that Gilbert would ignore it anyway. But he didn't want to be witness to his brother hitting on defenseless girls for hours. Especially not this girl. For some reason, he had a sort of feeling akin to protective over her, and the thought of anyone, brother or not, laying a finger on her made his insides twist.

Prussia, however, thought it was something else. "What, you hot for her or something? You're such a prude you wouldn't know what to do with a stiffy if you got one."

The blonde nation bristled slightly and glared knives at his eastern half. "It's nothing like that! It's just..."

"Just what?" The albino flashed a triumphant smile. "I'm right, huh? 'Course I am. You want her like every other man here. But let's be honest, West. The only way _you'd _ever see a girl like her naked is in one of your dirty magazines-"

There was a loud squeak to the right of them. They both turned to see Ukraine, looking red-faced down at herself. Germany followed her gaze and felt his face warm up. She had somehow poured the contents of her drink on herself, staining that pretty dress and causing it to become slightly transparent, so the dark lace of the bra she was wearing was visible.

She looked horrified, mouth gaping open and eyes bulging. She hadn't moved from her position, cup still slightly tilted and dripping onto her. The whole room had gone quiet, staring in shock (and something else with a few of the males) at the scene. As hard as he tried, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. His mouth hung open as well, unable to say anything at all. His brother, however, was not suffering from that disability.

"Or you could give her a bucket of water when she's wearing white." He snickered. "You'd prolly get a whole show by just doing that."

She turned to them, and Germany could see the tears forming fast. With a sob, she abruptly stood and ran out of the restaurant. All eyes followed her out, still surprised at the new events of the evening.

Feeling anger rise in him, the tall nation turned to the still laughing man next to him. "You went too far this time, Gilbert." He growled low, the ex-nation's chuckles dying hearing the tone.

He then rose and hurried after her, almost feeling the stunned eyes of the audience behind him. Yes, he knew they'd be talking about this as soon as he was out of earshot, but he didn't see anyone else get up to follow her, and he couldn't just leave her to cry by herself. That would be wrong. He picked up a few napkins on his way out, the clean-freak in him kicking in.

He found her standing right outside the building, back to him. He could see her head lowered and her shoulders moving sharply up and down, easily signifying that she was crying. He bit his lip and stood there quietly for a moment. One half of him felt personally responsible for his brother's behavior and wanted to apologize. The other half was very unsure if it was such a good idea to come out at all. Finally he cleared his throat, voice cracking. "F-Fraulein..."

She turned around, teary eyes looking at him. He thought immediately of the moment in the closet, when she asked him to tell no one of the page. The heat in his cheeks burned a little more as he remembered how they were touching, and how he could smell her hair, even though he wasn't noticing it at the time... He reeled in his thoughts back in and cleared his throat again. "A-Are you alright?..."

"D-da..." She muttered, wiping her eyes quickly. "Yes I'm fine..."

"I'm sorry about my brother." The shame started to build now that the anger was gone. "He was being- Completely inappropriate-"

"It's alright." She replied looking at the ground. "I don't blame you. Besides, it wasn't that bad..."

"Nein." He shook his head. "What my brother said, all of it, i-it wasn't right. He shouldn't... say things like that to a lady." The words sounded funny coming out of his mouth. They were all true enough, but they sounded like something England would say when he tried to pull the "I'm a gentleman" card.

They must have done the trick, though, for she raised her head and smiled a small smile. "Thank you..."

The sight made the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, if only for a moment. He glanced down and remembered the napkins he brought. "Here." He held them out to her. "Before the stain sets..."

She made an O shape with her mouth, taking them and wiping at the spill. He glanced away, cheeks flaring again. His eyes wanted so badly to look, but his integrity fought harder.

Soon, she finished cleaning it the best she could, and she just stood there, as did he. After all was said, the awkward silence found it's way back in between them. He looked around the empty street, wondering what to do now. After a moment, she spoke up. "Well, I think we should... go back in..."

He blinked, nodding slowly. For some reason, he felt as if there was something else he should say, but nothing came to mind. He watched her nod back and walk past him, eyes looking at the ground again and heading for the door. Suddenly, without his will, he blurted out,

"I like to bake."

His face contorted, trying to figure out where exactly that came from. He racked his brain over until she paused and turned to him, giving him the odd look he was sure he was making as well. "E-excuse me?"

"I...like to bake." He repeated, not having anything else to say. He was surprised he even said that. He made a point to keep that hobby a very secure secret, only telling a very select few. Now, he had just said it randomly to this woman, with no motivation to connection to anything they were saying before.

"Yes... I heard that." She made a point to continue sounding polite, though he was sure she was thinking he had lost it a little bit. That was what HE was thinking. "But why did you say it?"

"W-well, I suppose..." He ran a hand through his hair, thinking carefully. "I thought... s-since I knew something about you no one else knew..." He looked away, blushing slightly. " You should know something about me no one else knew."

He waited, for what he wasn't sure. He expected her to speak, or walk back into the restaurant without a word, or SOMETHING. When nothing in particular happened, he glanced up.

She was still there, looking at him, but her expression had changed. Instead of confused, she looked like a mixture of surprised, flattered, and other things he couldn't place. She blinked a few times before she smiled, small and sweet, a tad bit of color on her face as her eyes averted, but not in the embarrassed way. "I...see." her voice was soft, and had an airiness that mad his stomach flutter slightly. "Thank you..."

He wasn't sure what she was thanking him for, but nevertheless he nodded and tried smiling too, though his felt more strained. "You're... welcome..."

She kept smiling as she turned, walking back in without another word. He looked at her back until she was inside and out of his line of view. He inhaled slowly, realizing he hadn't been breathing for a second there. He took another slow, steady breath as he thought over what happened. Did he just have a reasonably normal moment with Ukraine?

His mouth twitched upwards, realizing he had. He then straightened up slightly and followed her lead back inside. He suddenly felt pretty good about this dinner party.

~O~

**PLEASE! Reviews, ideas, heck I'll take random gibberish (though not preferred)**

**Thank you for your time.**


	5. The Night's Sleep

**Hey. Wow, this chapter was... Surprisingly difficult to write, and it didn't turn out very well (AKA, I HATE IT)... Ah well. Such is life.**

**Thank you all who reviewed, please continue, and I really need ideas for the next chapter. Eek.**

~O~

Germany lay on the hotel bed, feeling surprisingly content with himself.

The evening, for the most part, went rather well. After the incident outside, he and Ukraine seem to get along better. Even though they still didn't say much to each other, the cloud that was there before had evaporated, leaving them in a comfortable silence. Gilbert made a few more jokes, but, after realizing neither were listening to him, gave up and began messing with Austria. They could look in each others' general direction without blushing (much) and at one point, after putting a few beers in his system, he had built up the courage to even talk to her more (just to ask to pass the salt, but still...). At the end of the night, he said his goodnights to all, including her. She had merely smiled and waved, but it was better than nothing.

He stared up at the ceiling and felt himself smile a little. Sure, they weren't friends or anything, but he did feel like they had made significant progress at that dinner. By next U.N. Meeting, he was sure he could be in the same room with her and think nothing of it. Maybe even sit next to her...

...Nah, Russia wouldn't like that.

Closing his eyes, he sighed a little. It had been a wearing night, and the lack of last night's sleep was catching up to him now. He slipped his hands into his pockets, too tired to take off his clothes, and replayed the night in his head again as he drifted away...

He felt something brush against his fingers in his front pocket. Furrowing his brow, he pulled it out and forced one sleepy eye open to look at it. It seemed to be a folded up piece of glossy paper. He opened his other eye and stared at it in confusion. He didn't remember putting anything in there. Slowly, he unfolded it and, smoothing out slightly, stared wide-eyed and red at it.

It was the page. _The _page. The page that started this whole thing. There it was, in his hand. And there SHE was on it, looking positively sinful in that milkmaid outfit.

He blinked, gripping the paper tighter. How did it get in his pocket? He swore he saw her crumple it and put it away in the closet, though here it didn't look wrinkled at all. Did she put it in his pants at the party without him realizing it? It was possible, but he thought he would've noticed... And why would she do that in the first place?...

Somehow, though, the questions began to fade from his mind as he started to look, actually _look_ at the picture. Put aside the knowledge that he knew who she really was and how much trouble this thing caused, he honestly thought she looked... good, sexy even. Her pose was both a mixture of innocent and seductive, with her back arched just enough to show off her... assets more than usual and make one wonder how much farther she could bend...

He felt his mouth grow dry and his tongue run over his lips for moisture as he continue to notice little details on the photo. Her eyes were wide and curious, causing him to be drawn in for a moment. Her lower lip was pushed out in a little bit of a pout, shaping her mouth into an O shape he had seen earlier that night, though this version looked very different. And the outfit... Gott, the OUTFIT... They must have concisely given her a dress that was three sizes too small for her. He swore that the seams would start tearing if he looked at it longer.

He began to breath through his mouth, suddenly finding himself in need for more air in his lungs. A shaky hand let go of a corner and slid a finger down the page, loosely following where the curves of her body were. His eyes followed his finger until it fell limply onto his chest. That was when he noticed the sudden... tingling going through his body.

Germany blinked, still breathing quite deep. He glanced around the room cautiously. Italy wasn't back yet. Probably drinking with Japan, or spending "quality-time" with his brother, or with Liechtenstein continuing what the German had interrupted a few days ago... In any case, he wouldn't be around for a while. And they didn't share the hotel with anyone else, so no one would barge in...

His eyes eventually turned back to the paper, or more like the woman on the paper. He felt the tingling surge again, only stronger, and _lower_. He bit his lip, contemplating. It was wrong, he knew it, but... No one was here. No one would know. Making up his mind, he took a shaky breath and allowed his hand to move slowly down his body...

He started violently when he felt a pair of small hands landed on his chest, causing him to jump and drop the page. He sat up, panting slightly, and paled about a thousands shades whiter than usual.

There she was. The _actual _thing looking down at him. Those pretty, inviting blue eyes and that pouty, pink mouth... It was actually there, in front of him. He blinked, allowing this information to click in his head. As soon as it did, his face heated up and his mouth went on autopilot.

"M-Miss Ukraine! It's not- I know this looks- I'm sorry- It-"

"It's OK, Germany. Calm down, it's alright..." Her smile was reassuring and she spoke in a slow, comforting way like she was speaking to a child.

He gawked at her, a bewildered look creeping up on his face. "You're... You're not mad?"

"Of course not." She smiled a little more, shaking her head slightly. "Actually... I think it's sort of... Flattering." Her eyes looked away, a light blush appearing across that porcelain white face of hers.

His heart pounded violently in his chest. She... She was okay with this? She even seemed...a little pleased by it. He didn't understand. The tingling feeling spiked as he continued to look at her, the cute way she blushed, how her eyes fluttered when she glanced back at him, that smile still gracing those tempting lips... Then something else clicked.

"What are you doing here?"

She didn't even seemed phased by the question, laughing a light, airy laugh. "Isn't it obvious?" Her eyes twinkled a little as she lowered herself to the his eye-level, a hand running through his hair. "I wanted to see you."

He must have just gone into cardiac arrest, because he couldn't hear his heart pounding anymore. Though he couldn't hear ANYTHING over the sound of her words echoing in his ears.

...What? Did she just say... She wanted to see him? HIM? The person who she had seem to be avoiding like the plague? True, they had gotten to know each other some that night, but not enough to insinuate THIS...

In his contemplating, he didn't realize that she had crawled up and straddled his hips, hands resting back on his chest. When he came to figure this out, the shock was doubled when he looked at her body. His eyes bulged almost out of his sockets as he spluttered,

"Y-you're- you're wearing-" Oh Gott he could barely speak. His mouth had gone dry again, and there was too much blood flooding to his head. "You're wearing the... the out-"

"Outfit?" She nodded, smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt. "I noticed how much you... _liked_ it." She smiled wider and motioned to the page, which had fallen off the bed and onto the floor. She looked at it for a moment then up at him, a playful glint in her eyes. "But if you're going to do something like that..." She leaned close, face barely inches away from his. "Wouldn't you rather have the real thing?"

And then, she kissed him.

And at that moment, he died. Or became paralyzed. Or time stopped. In any case, he froze. His mind was unable to give out commands to his body, in complete overload by what was happening.

There was a woman -and not just any woman, a Gottdamned _gorgeous _woman- laying on top of him. A Gottdamned gorgeous woman, laying on top of him, kissing him. A Gottdamned gorgeous woman, laying on top of him, kissing him... _and he was kissing back._

He wasn't sure exactly HOW he was doing it. As far as he knew, his brain was still shot. But his mouth was working, and he wasn't sure that he would stop it if he could. Her lips were so soft against his thin ones and they seemed to move in just the right way to make him shiver. She nipped his lower lip, causing him to gasp slightly. She used this to her advantage, slipping her tongue into his slightly opened mouth and exploring it very thoroughly. He heard himself very lightly moan as his muscle responded by rubbing against hers, enjoying the stimulation (and her taste) far too much...

She moved quickly to unbutton his shirt, hands trailing fire across his shoulders and chest. He began to groan in protest when she pulled her mouth away but was cut off by the sharp breath as she placed heated kisses down his jaw and neck. He stared at the ceiling, part-numb, part-shocked, part-thrilled, part-confused... hell, he was just a jumble.

His mind started to work again since she wasn't in his line of sight. What was he DOING? What was _she _doing? What did this mean? How far would this go? What would the outcome be if-

Then, he felt her bite his neck, and he suddenly didn't care. He didn't care about consequences or outcomes or anything. All they did was enable him from what he wanted. And right now, he wanted _this_.

Quick as lightening, he gained control of his body again and flipped her over, catching her mouth in a fiery kiss. She squeaked in surprise, but recovered quickly and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing back just as powerfully. He wrapped an arm around her waist as the other roamed across her body. He traveled down her neck, biting and licking, urged on by her moans. He got to her chest, lips brushing the fabric of the dress. He looked down at it and, eyes filling with lust, grabbed it and tore it off her body-

-His body shot up, eyes snapping open and chest heaving. It took him a moment to figure where he was. He finally settled to being in the hotel room, sitting on the bed. He wiped the cold sweat off his brow as he looked at the bright red numbers on the night-stand clock. 3:47. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Was... none of it real?

"Doitsu?" a small, slightly annoying voice called over his shoulder. Italy sat up and rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Are you OK? Were you dreaming?"

He flopped back onto the pillow, sighing again. "Ja, it was... just a dream..." He glanced at his companion and rolled his eyes. " You know, you tell people you're not gay, yet you sleep with another man..." He lifted the covers and looked, making sure. " Naked."

"hmm..." the little Italian looked as if he was thinking that over, before dropping back fast asleep.

Germany shook his head, staring up at the ceiling. He tried not to, but he ended up thinking about the dream, blushing quite bright at doing so. What _was _that? What did it mean?

He groaned, rubbing his eyes. Well, it did mean one thing... He felt the awkward cloud float back over his head, and gave it a "welcome back" scowl. The rest of the night, he lay there not attempting to go back to sleep and listened to the cloud rumble happily away.

~O~

**OK guys, Epic Review/idea time.**

**Poland: She, like, really needs this.**

**I, like, REALLY do.**


	6. The Advice

**Hello. I have a confession. I am a procrastinator. I don't get anything done. Ask anyone. Ask Poland.**

Poland: It's true, she is.

**I am. So I'm sorry it took me so long. I'll try to speed things up before one of you guys beat me with a rubber chicken.**

The next morning was even worse than all the mornings before, if that was possible.

Though this time, Germany DID get some sleep. Fitful, light, restless sleep that he woke up from every few hours, but still. The thing that made it worse was waking up to the weight of an Italian jumping up and down on him.

"Get up, Doitsu!" He yelled, sounding like a little kid who was trying to get his parents up on Christmas morning. "We have to get ready for the plane!"

At first, the Germanic nation was ready to pile-drive Italy to the ground and go back to sleep. But his ears perked and his spirits lifted at hearing the last comment.

The plane! He was going _home _today. Thank Gott too. He didn't think he could take another day of this place, or of this year's meeting, or of her...

He got dressed and packed neatly but quickly. His flight wasn't for another couple hours, but he thought if he got there early enough he might be able to find a sooner flight out of this damned country. Plus, he liked the idea of having everything in order and ready to go.

At the airport, he sat waiting in the plastic waiting chair, thrumming his fingers on his suitcase. Italy was rambling about something involving pizza in his ear, but he wasn't really listening. He scoped the terminal carefully, watching the people around him. He pretended that he wasn't, but in the back of his mind he knew he was keeping his eyes open for a certain someone. He also pretended he wasn't having a debate of whether he was dreading seeing her, or hoping to...

After a while, more countries entered the waiting area, mostly central and eastern European. Austria arrived and sat directly opposite of Germany, giving him a courteous nod before opening up some sort of musical magazine. The aristocratic man and him were very close (TOO close, in some cases) and most of the time, Germany thoroughly enjoyed his company.

Except, that is, when a particular third party joined them...

"HEY SPECKS!"

He cringed, hearing said particular third party's voice. All he had to do was _think _of him NOT being there and somehow he would appear. How he knew to be at that one place he wasn't wanted was a feat Germany couldn't understand. _It was like a sick gift... _The body connected to the voice appeared in a second and flopped onto the seat next to the glaring Austrian.

"What do you want, Prussia?" Austria asked, eyes glancing up from behind glossy pages.

"Is it cool that I sit with Elizaveta on the plane ride? I mean, I'm gonna do it either way, but Hell might as well ask." He flashed a snide grin, obviously baiting the man next to him.

Austria kept his composure, but it was easy to see that he would've liked nothing more than to shove his magazine down the albino's throat. "Of course not! Just because we are not together anymore-" 

"That's just it, though. You AREN'T together. She's a free agent-"

"But that does not give you the right to hit on her-"

"What, afraid she'll like me more?"

"That is absolutely absurd!"

"So is that a yes?"

Germany watched them, mentally rolling his eyes. They were always bickering and picking at each other, and usually over the most ridiculous things. They were like a married couple (though if he said that out loud, they'd probably kill him in some horribly ironic and/or violating way) and, in a weird, twisted view, it was sort of cute (he referred back to the ironic/violating death).

He began to drone out the sound of their arguing and glanced around. Italy had disappeared, maybe to find a pasta place for lunch or something. Their were people strewn about here and there, absorbed in whatever they were doing, and the area around him and his chair was empty.

He blinked and glanced back. They were still going at each other, by this time oblivious to anyone or anything else in the room. He thought it over, looking between them, a hand over his chin in concentration. There were two pretty important people to him: His brother, his _idiot _brother, but his brother nonetheless. And one of the few, if not only, man he could possibly call his best friend. If he couldn't talk to them about it, who else could he talk to?.. He mulled it over a moment longer then cleared his throat. "Er, guys..."

"-if you even NOTICED that she didn't want to-"

"Guys..."

"-Well, you should've bought some bigger ones before you-"

"Guys..."

"Those were YOUR pants on the fan wing!-"

"MEN!"

Both nations started, turning to him in an instinctive haphazard salute. Prussia actually had his hand half-way to his brow, if it didn't smack Austria on the way up. He scowled at the hand's owner, pushed it roughly away and adjusted his glasses. "What is it, Germany?"

"I have...Something I want your advice on..." He spoke slowly while he looked between them nervously.

They both blinked simultaneously and leaned toward him, faces growing curious. "What is it, Germany?" Austria said again, though this time around he sounded like a teenage girl who wanted in on the latest juicy gossip. Prussia looked the same, eyes glinting with an eagerness he only had when he wanted to know or knew a dirty little secret... The blonde nation sighed at the sight. A pair of Nosy Nancys, that's what he had on his hands...

Of course, he couldn't really blame them. He had never been one to open up to others, especially the ones closest to him, so when he _did _decide to share something, they were always there, ready to listen. It was something he admired about them, and something he felt ashamed about himself...

He cleared his throat again, then took a slow, steady breath. "Well..."

"-And then I woke up and realized it was all a dream." He finished, glancing between the two.

He had just spent the last half-hour re-telling everything that had occurred in the past few days. Well, not everything... He made a point not to say anything about the events at the dinner party, and he didn't mention who it was he was talking about. He made a promise to her he wouldn't, and he was a man of his word.

Everything else, he spilled. About finding the page, about the closet, about the awkwardness, about the dream, and about the strange feeling he was having now. After he said it all, he honestly felt a little better, getting it off his chest. He sighed as if to show his relief and looked at his companions.

They were still leaning towards him, but their expressions had changed. Austria had his brow furrowed and was staring intently at him with a hand on his chin, looking very Freudian. Prussia, on the other hand, looked utterly baffled, face all squinched on one side as if he was trying to figure out one of Greece's philosophical riddles. They both made a "Hm..." noise at the same time, though their tones matched their faces, and therefore clashed with each other. Their absence of any other words was making him uneasy, so he tried breaking the silence. "W-well?"

Austria leaned back, stroking the beard he didn't have and seeming to be deep in thought. "Well, it seems that one thing is certain. You obviously have feelings for this person. How deep they are and what action to take is still unclear..."

Prussia seemed to snap out of it at this point, and was staring at the Austrian like he had grown another head. "Unclear? UNCLEAR? It's OBVIOUS what he should do!" He turned to his brother, looking straight into is face. "Listen, West... when a man has thoughts and feelings like this, there's only one thing to do..."

Germany blinked, leaning toward him. He knew that Gilbert was usually full of it, but the look on the Albino's face told that maybe, just this one time, he was actually going to give him good, solid, brotherly advice. "Yes?..."

Red eyes looked into blue ones with utmost seriousness and wisdom as he uttered the words, "...Bed her."

Germany blinked again and reeled back, eyes wide with shock. "WHAT?"

"Bed her." He said simply, nodding like a otherworldly, all-knowing sage. "Trust me, the only way to get her out of your head is to get _your _head into her-" He paused, glancing at the twin horrified expressions of the two other countries. "What?"

"That is the most lewd and perverse thing I've ever heard in my life!" Austria said exasperated.

"You're only mad 'cause you didn't think of it."

His glasses-clad eyes rolled and he looked miffed at Germany. "Well, it seems you won't be getting any ENLIGHTENING and INTELLEGENT answers if you ask _this_ salacious dolt."

"I don't know what 'salacious' and 'dolt' mean, but they can't be as bad as wearing women's clothes."

"I DON'T WEAR WOMEN'S CLOTHES! I'll have you know that I make my clothes myself and-" 

"So you just SUBCONCIOUSLY think you're a woman, so you make those clothes?" 

"What? No! that is REDICULOUS-"

The blonde nation sighed. And There they went again. He knew that THIS time, he wouldn't be able to get their attention again. Luckily, a voice called overhead that his plane was now boarding.

He gathered his things and headed toward the ticket counter. He heard the loud and annoying banter follow behind him, and decided to sit with Hungary. It would save both her AND him from either the nauseating ex-nation or the stuffy Aristocrat. And perhaps they'd sit together, finishing their arguments in hushed tones, faces close to each other... If he was anyone else, he would've snorted at the image.

As he handed his ticket to the lady behind the counter, he paused and glanced back. The waiting area was now crowded. Through the mob, he thought he saw a flash of light blonde hair and blue eyes, smelled the scent of vanilla and snow, heard the soft, springy sound of bouncing...

He ducked behind Switzerland and walked down the hall to his plane.

** R&R, my lovelies.**


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